So I got some stuff on Monday, bundled everything up on Tuesday and was going to mail them today, Wednesday, until life intervened which means, sadly, I'll be bouncing off the deadline by shipping them tomorrow. But! They're all ready to go which makes me happy. Here's what I put in my two bundles:
Both have:
5 yards of fabric (a nice restrained green check as Art mentioned that less vibrant patterns were best and that green is a favorite color)
1 pair scissors
1 bundle elastic
2 spools of thread
1 set of pins
1 wheel of needles
1 seam ripper
1 thimble
1 measuring tape
1 small box of safety pins, buttons and snaps
Then one bundle has:
1 bag of sequins (mixed)
1 bag of beads (mixed)
1 card beading needles
[in the belief that kids love shiny, sparkly things and even if they can't or won't be used for sewing they can be treasure!]
The other has:
1 embroidery hoop (plastic so as hopefully not to break)
2 spools grosgrain ribbon
assorted embroidery threads
[in the belief that most little girls love hair ribbons and that embroidery thread colors make everyone happy]
They're all bundled and tied per instruction and will go off in a flat rate box (or two) tomorrow. Don't forget to check IBOL for instructions and leave a comment there (on any post at all) to get the address for shipping if you haven't yet.
Showing posts with label Iraq. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Iraq. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Friday, May 02, 2008
Susie Dow - New Article
Susie Dow, who blogs about Kirk and Ryan Manelick at MissingMan has written another article for ePluribus Media about her theory on Kirk's disappearance. You can read the full article here.
Also, there will probably be some changes 'round these parts soon. I started this blog simply to write Kirk's story but, obviously, family life and personal things crept in. Things are a little confusing as I whiz from stories about the Second Coming of John the Baptist as announced by placard to serious stuff about missing persons, about Iraq and about Kirk.
So, I think it might be time to divide things out a little. I'm not sure exactly what form that will take, but rest assured I'll let you all know what's going on so you can find what you're looking for (and ignore the rest).
Also, there will probably be some changes 'round these parts soon. I started this blog simply to write Kirk's story but, obviously, family life and personal things crept in. Things are a little confusing as I whiz from stories about the Second Coming of John the Baptist as announced by placard to serious stuff about missing persons, about Iraq and about Kirk.
So, I think it might be time to divide things out a little. I'm not sure exactly what form that will take, but rest assured I'll let you all know what's going on so you can find what you're looking for (and ignore the rest).
Thursday, November 29, 2007
The Forgotten
When Kirk was in the military there was a great deal I never thought about. I really never considered the support systems that were in place for family when a military member is sent on an unaccompanied tour - mostly because I never really had to use them. When Kirk was in the army it was our friend's unit that was called up to the first Gulf War, not Kirk's. In the Air Force he had only one longish tour (in Italy during the Kosovo engagement) and that was unexpected. Certainly I never felt that I had to use any of the resources that were out there. I was always aware, however, that they were there.
When Kirk went missing as a contractor I became excruciatingly aware of how different it is as a civilian. There was no base counseling, no chain of command to assign someone to help us out. There was no reliable plan of action, no one to assure me that they had done this before, that everyone knew what should happen. When things were difficult for us there was no one to call; when our claims in Kirk's name were ignored there was no established precedence to refer to. He and thousands of other contractors were serving, but the government hadn't even done the little that was required of them.
How much worse, how much more horrific is it then for the contractors who are not American - for the Iraqis who are daily serving our military, daily risking their lives? They are not only in danger from the violence in their country, they are at constant risk simply because they are associating with the occupying forces.
Dan Hardie, a British blogger, has written about three Iraqi contractors who worked extensively with the British military and are now trying desperately to get asylum. Read... please.
When Kirk went missing as a contractor I became excruciatingly aware of how different it is as a civilian. There was no base counseling, no chain of command to assign someone to help us out. There was no reliable plan of action, no one to assure me that they had done this before, that everyone knew what should happen. When things were difficult for us there was no one to call; when our claims in Kirk's name were ignored there was no established precedence to refer to. He and thousands of other contractors were serving, but the government hadn't even done the little that was required of them.
How much worse, how much more horrific is it then for the contractors who are not American - for the Iraqis who are daily serving our military, daily risking their lives? They are not only in danger from the violence in their country, they are at constant risk simply because they are associating with the occupying forces.
Dan Hardie, a British blogger, has written about three Iraqi contractors who worked extensively with the British military and are now trying desperately to get asylum. Read... please.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
One More Story
It was months after Kirk went missing, and there were CID agents in our livingroom. We were all sitting around the table, two dark-suited men, my mother and I. It had been a long and strange conversation. There are any number of stories that could come out of it, but there's just one I want to tell right now.
It was nearly the end of the whole interview. They had been kind, calm, reserved but suddenly they were uncomfortable. They shifted in their chairs and exchanged a look. Finally one cleared his throat.
There was one more thing, something that might be hard...
I didn't know what to think. If they knew what had happened to Kirk surely they would have said something at the start, not waited until the very end of a couple of hours of talk. Months of horrible imagined scenes came quickly to mind.
... there was talk (he said) ... someone had mentioned ... a Russian woman that Kirk might have become friends with.
And I think we shocked those poor CID men, my mother and I, because we burst out laughing. Real laughter, honest, genuine, true laughter.
It was utterly ridiculous to imagine Kirk, six weeks away from home, suddenly starting a torrid affair with a Russian seductress and... no, not Kirk. Not that I doubt the story - there probably was a Russian out there somewhere, and Kirk being Kirk would have delighted in talking to her. But unfaithful? No.
So why tell this piece of that afternoon? Because of the story. Just one of Kirk's many little moments captured, only this was the last one, during one of the very last phone calls, just before the last trip.
I have a confession to make, he said, there's... another woman.
Excellent, I answered, and how old is she?
He laughed. You didn't ask what she looked like!
I know you too well.
She was six, the daughter of the man who owned the house Kirk was staying in somewhere in Iraq. They had asked him in for dinner, and as he sat in their warm house, happily trying to communicate with broken English, Russian, Arabic and German, he felt a small hand on his arm, and turned to see a pair of enormous brown eyes. She was fascinated with this stranger, this American, and once she overcame her shyness she refused to leave his side for the rest of the night. He talked to her father about his own children, and they agreed that this was what was really important. The little girl finally went to sleep sitting with him.
Sorry, he said, he was in love.
No Russian woman, just one small Iraqi girl. One last story.
It was nearly the end of the whole interview. They had been kind, calm, reserved but suddenly they were uncomfortable. They shifted in their chairs and exchanged a look. Finally one cleared his throat.
There was one more thing, something that might be hard...
I didn't know what to think. If they knew what had happened to Kirk surely they would have said something at the start, not waited until the very end of a couple of hours of talk. Months of horrible imagined scenes came quickly to mind.
... there was talk (he said) ... someone had mentioned ... a Russian woman that Kirk might have become friends with.
And I think we shocked those poor CID men, my mother and I, because we burst out laughing. Real laughter, honest, genuine, true laughter.
It was utterly ridiculous to imagine Kirk, six weeks away from home, suddenly starting a torrid affair with a Russian seductress and... no, not Kirk. Not that I doubt the story - there probably was a Russian out there somewhere, and Kirk being Kirk would have delighted in talking to her. But unfaithful? No.
So why tell this piece of that afternoon? Because of the story. Just one of Kirk's many little moments captured, only this was the last one, during one of the very last phone calls, just before the last trip.
I have a confession to make, he said, there's... another woman.
Excellent, I answered, and how old is she?
He laughed. You didn't ask what she looked like!
I know you too well.
She was six, the daughter of the man who owned the house Kirk was staying in somewhere in Iraq. They had asked him in for dinner, and as he sat in their warm house, happily trying to communicate with broken English, Russian, Arabic and German, he felt a small hand on his arm, and turned to see a pair of enormous brown eyes. She was fascinated with this stranger, this American, and once she overcame her shyness she refused to leave his side for the rest of the night. He talked to her father about his own children, and they agreed that this was what was really important. The little girl finally went to sleep sitting with him.
Sorry, he said, he was in love.
No Russian woman, just one small Iraqi girl. One last story.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Commitment
Coming back from that second trip into Iraq Kirk made up his mind. Before that, we hadn't told more than a handful of people what he was doing. He hadn't officially quit his job, so we just said he was out of town for a bit and left it at that. But coming back that time, he was sure - this was what he wanted to do.
So we told some friends, and started to plan the move. I only had two real ground rules: we were to be done with the move before Christmas, and I would not move alone, not again, not this time. He was going to have to come back from Turkey to help.
He promised. We would leave together, in November.
So we told some friends, and started to plan the move. I only had two real ground rules: we were to be done with the move before Christmas, and I would not move alone, not again, not this time. He was going to have to come back from Turkey to help.
He promised. We would leave together, in November.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Wealth is Relative
On that second trip in, Kirk was finishing up a number of contracts - delivering the buildings and collecting payments. To complicate matters, the payments were all made in cash. It sounds utterly insane, but I think a lot of small contractors worked that way. It meant they could pay employees easily... or something... nope, it still sounds utterly insane.
By the end of the trip Kirk found himself driving north to the Turkish border carrying something a little over a million dollars. A. Million. Dollars. Cash.
He was supposed to drive through the border, head on to the airport and fly back to Istanbul. But things went a little wrong. Kirk had to declare the money he was bringing in to the country, which was fair enough, but the border official then insisted on publically, slowly, LOUDLY counting the money out. Then he looked around the roomful of men and carefully spelled out the make,model, color, and registration number of Kirk's car. Now, Kirk was a highly trained intelligence officer with experience in dangerous situations, so he was able to figure out fairly easily that this was not a good thing.
I have no idea how he got back to Istanbul, but I know it didn't involve that car, or the plane ticket the border agent had examined. He called me that night from the office. He was sleeping, he said, with his head about two feet from a million dollars.
'Wow,' I said, 'vicariously wealthy.'
'Yeah... Hey, did I tell you what C said to me? He said I look like I've dropped ten years since I got here.'
'You're doing what you want to do, aren't you.'
'Yup. It's a little crazy, but it's what I want to do.'
'okay then. We'll settle for vicariously wealthy and ten years younger.'
'Goodnight. I love you.'
'Me too.'
By the end of the trip Kirk found himself driving north to the Turkish border carrying something a little over a million dollars. A. Million. Dollars. Cash.
He was supposed to drive through the border, head on to the airport and fly back to Istanbul. But things went a little wrong. Kirk had to declare the money he was bringing in to the country, which was fair enough, but the border official then insisted on publically, slowly, LOUDLY counting the money out. Then he looked around the roomful of men and carefully spelled out the make,model, color, and registration number of Kirk's car. Now, Kirk was a highly trained intelligence officer with experience in dangerous situations, so he was able to figure out fairly easily that this was not a good thing.
I have no idea how he got back to Istanbul, but I know it didn't involve that car, or the plane ticket the border agent had examined. He called me that night from the office. He was sleeping, he said, with his head about two feet from a million dollars.
'Wow,' I said, 'vicariously wealthy.'
'Yeah... Hey, did I tell you what C said to me? He said I look like I've dropped ten years since I got here.'
'You're doing what you want to do, aren't you.'
'Yup. It's a little crazy, but it's what I want to do.'
'okay then. We'll settle for vicariously wealthy and ten years younger.'
'Goodnight. I love you.'
'Me too.'
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Back To Iraq
The second trip to Iraq was a sort of watershed. The first time in the country Kirk was trying to get a feel for things. He still wasn't totally committed to the company; he had the option to return to his old job if he wanted. He wasn't exactly looking for reasons to say no - he wanted this to work - but he didn't want to blindly dive in either.
He came back to Turkey with a fistful of contacts and a lot of enthusiasm. He had talked to local Iraqis and to military commanders. He had figured out some of the delivery problems, renegotiated a few deals that were in crisis, and run his guard shack design ideas past a few people who had been unanimously enthusiastic.
He also had driven the roads and walked the street. Before he went in I know he had been nervous - excited and challenged of course, but understandably edgy about heading into a war zone. When he came back he had real experience to lay against those fears, and perhaps he felt he understood them at least a little bit.
What I know about that second trip in is anecdotal as usual - Kirk once again telling the story, sketching out the most exciting or interesting pieces of his adventure. Like the afternoon he spent as a German eye doctor.
There was a road block apparently, tying up dozens of local Iraqis, and Kirk. I don't know if he was alone - I got the impression that he had an Iraqi employee with him - but I do know the cars were being searched, and Kirk had no desire to produce his American passport and id in front of a mixed group of Iraqi men. He was already in a bit of difficulty because he had a hand-gun with him, and the guards were talking about confiscating it. Apparently this was a positive thing for him though, because it roused the sympathy of the men around him.
Still, when asked for his name and nationality he didn't want to trot out his US background. So he said he was German. It can't have been the hardest sell in the world, to convince a group of bored American guards and a mixed lot of Iraqi nationals that you are actually Herr von Ackermann from Germany. Ah, but why was Herr von Ackermann there? Well... it's really Herr Doktor von Ackermann sir... and I'm a ... doctor... an eye doctor. Yup, I'm here in a humanitarian effort to see that the fine Iraqi people do not go another day without opthamalogical help.
It was a brilliant ruse, and worked beautifully. He was allowed to keep the gun, he was not asked for papers, and the guards stopped searching the car.
However he had to spend the next hour solemnly examining the eyes of every last Iraqi man at that roadblock.
He came back to Turkey with a fistful of contacts and a lot of enthusiasm. He had talked to local Iraqis and to military commanders. He had figured out some of the delivery problems, renegotiated a few deals that were in crisis, and run his guard shack design ideas past a few people who had been unanimously enthusiastic.
He also had driven the roads and walked the street. Before he went in I know he had been nervous - excited and challenged of course, but understandably edgy about heading into a war zone. When he came back he had real experience to lay against those fears, and perhaps he felt he understood them at least a little bit.
What I know about that second trip in is anecdotal as usual - Kirk once again telling the story, sketching out the most exciting or interesting pieces of his adventure. Like the afternoon he spent as a German eye doctor.
There was a road block apparently, tying up dozens of local Iraqis, and Kirk. I don't know if he was alone - I got the impression that he had an Iraqi employee with him - but I do know the cars were being searched, and Kirk had no desire to produce his American passport and id in front of a mixed group of Iraqi men. He was already in a bit of difficulty because he had a hand-gun with him, and the guards were talking about confiscating it. Apparently this was a positive thing for him though, because it roused the sympathy of the men around him.
Still, when asked for his name and nationality he didn't want to trot out his US background. So he said he was German. It can't have been the hardest sell in the world, to convince a group of bored American guards and a mixed lot of Iraqi nationals that you are actually Herr von Ackermann from Germany. Ah, but why was Herr von Ackermann there? Well... it's really Herr Doktor von Ackermann sir... and I'm a ... doctor... an eye doctor. Yup, I'm here in a humanitarian effort to see that the fine Iraqi people do not go another day without opthamalogical help.
It was a brilliant ruse, and worked beautifully. He was allowed to keep the gun, he was not asked for papers, and the guards stopped searching the car.
However he had to spend the next hour solemnly examining the eyes of every last Iraqi man at that roadblock.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Encounter
There was an Iraqi Kirk met on his first trip in - Kirk described him as a leader of some sort, but with the convoluted way of things over there that could have meant anything from a locally important guy to a man with three goats and an inflated sense of importance. Still, as always Kirk fell to talking.
He asked the man about his view of the American presence. The man admitted that he was fighting America, that he would continue to fight America. To what purpose, Kirk wanted to know. Do you want America to leave Iraq?
No, the man replied firmly. Oh no, if America leaves there are ten thousand Kurds to the north, and they will sweep down and they will kill us.
But you fight America.
Oh yes, the man said. We will fight, and we will lose, and then we will rebuild together.
You realize that's ridiculous, Kirk said.
Yes, he said serenely, it is stupid and many will be killed. But we are warriors. And we are stubborn bastards.
He asked the man about his view of the American presence. The man admitted that he was fighting America, that he would continue to fight America. To what purpose, Kirk wanted to know. Do you want America to leave Iraq?
No, the man replied firmly. Oh no, if America leaves there are ten thousand Kurds to the north, and they will sweep down and they will kill us.
But you fight America.
Oh yes, the man said. We will fight, and we will lose, and then we will rebuild together.
You realize that's ridiculous, Kirk said.
Yes, he said serenely, it is stupid and many will be killed. But we are warriors. And we are stubborn bastards.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
The Day
By coincidence the day Kirk left was the first day of school. Our kids were going in two different directions by then - the oldest two went south to Half Moon Bay, Child 3 went north to Montara. California was in the middle of its financial woes at that point (one of those little ironies - massive amounts of tax money coming in, yet somehow the state was near bankruptcy. It's okay though, it led to one of the most amusing gubernatorial races I've ever seen) so we had no school buses. Last year we had made the habit of having me take the morning trip to Montara, while Kirk dropped off a full load of mid-school aged neighborhood teens in Half Moon Bay. This morning was no different.
Kirk loved dropping the kids off. It was like those fishing trips he took with just one or two kids. I never asked what they talked about, what they did. Sometimes they told a story or two, but mostly it was their time, and it was priceless. So that morning, just as though it were any other morning, he dropped the oldest two off at school.
Then we put his luggage in the car. He was going to buy whatever clothes he ended up needing in Turkey. It made more sense to get at least semi-local clothes when he was actually there. He only had a small suitcase and his passport.
On the way we dropped by Home Depot. Banal, isn't it? It was those darn outlets, the ones that didn't play well with American electronics. C had asked Kirk to bring a case of outlets with him when he came to Turkey, a last minute request.
These post 9-11 farewells don't have quite the romantic setting they used to. Ours was at the curb - Kirk drove up, we both got out and unloaded the luggage, then hugged, and kissed. He would call from Frankfurt, he said - the last place his cell phone would work.
Then we said good bye. And I drove away.
Kirk loved dropping the kids off. It was like those fishing trips he took with just one or two kids. I never asked what they talked about, what they did. Sometimes they told a story or two, but mostly it was their time, and it was priceless. So that morning, just as though it were any other morning, he dropped the oldest two off at school.
Then we put his luggage in the car. He was going to buy whatever clothes he ended up needing in Turkey. It made more sense to get at least semi-local clothes when he was actually there. He only had a small suitcase and his passport.
On the way we dropped by Home Depot. Banal, isn't it? It was those darn outlets, the ones that didn't play well with American electronics. C had asked Kirk to bring a case of outlets with him when he came to Turkey, a last minute request.
These post 9-11 farewells don't have quite the romantic setting they used to. Ours was at the curb - Kirk drove up, we both got out and unloaded the luggage, then hugged, and kissed. He would call from Frankfurt, he said - the last place his cell phone would work.
Then we said good bye. And I drove away.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Hind sight is betraying me. I'm trying to remember what it was like in those weeks when we made the choice for Kirk to go to Iraq. I'm trying to put myself back in that mindset, but I can't do it. I know too much - it has been too hard. I can't dissociate enough to present this honestly. I can't give you what I want to give you - a real feeling for why we chose what we did.
Kirk wasn't happy. There is that - although it sounds so small and meaningless now. He had gained some weight, and for him that was a sign of something more. He was sleeping badly, his chronic stomach trouble had started up again, he was distracted and uneasy. It started with 9/11, but it was getting worse. Because of who he was it was unspoken, unexpressed. He played with the kids, coached the soccer team, went on nightly runs with me, and walked out to the ocean every night to talk and watch the surf. But the man who had always looked 10 years younger than he really was suddenly looked old, tired, beaten. So this was more than simple unhappiness, more fundamental, more important.
And then C went to Turkey. Kirk had been thinking of going to Kosovo, talking of making a major change, and then C got this incredible chance. And Kirk was envious. He was happy that C would be able to do this, but oh... he wanted to go as well. And I knew that.
I try and remember as well that this was the early days after the initial war. No contractors had yet been hurt or killed. Things had gone well, things seemed to be stable.
Keep all of that in mind when you read the rest of this story. It's important. It's important to remember the time, and important to remember who Kirk was.
That's what I'm trying to do.
Kirk wasn't happy. There is that - although it sounds so small and meaningless now. He had gained some weight, and for him that was a sign of something more. He was sleeping badly, his chronic stomach trouble had started up again, he was distracted and uneasy. It started with 9/11, but it was getting worse. Because of who he was it was unspoken, unexpressed. He played with the kids, coached the soccer team, went on nightly runs with me, and walked out to the ocean every night to talk and watch the surf. But the man who had always looked 10 years younger than he really was suddenly looked old, tired, beaten. So this was more than simple unhappiness, more fundamental, more important.
And then C went to Turkey. Kirk had been thinking of going to Kosovo, talking of making a major change, and then C got this incredible chance. And Kirk was envious. He was happy that C would be able to do this, but oh... he wanted to go as well. And I knew that.
I try and remember as well that this was the early days after the initial war. No contractors had yet been hurt or killed. Things had gone well, things seemed to be stable.
Keep all of that in mind when you read the rest of this story. It's important. It's important to remember the time, and important to remember who Kirk was.
That's what I'm trying to do.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Story
Went to California for a week - back to the Bay area where we last lived as a family with Kirk. It's a beautiful place, if slightly insane (2 bedroom house for $800,000? What a bargain!). There are hills with eucalyptus groves where, when the wind is right, you can ignore the fact that several million people are within a few miles; and there is the ocean with its comforting habit of continuing to sweep in and out whatever insanity is going on around.
I had some decisions to make, some things to work out - some big, some less so. One of the smaller was this blog.
You see, I had a meeting with the CID (that's Criminal Investigation Division remember - don't hold me to the exact wording though) on Wednesday, August 9th. It was two years and ten months to the day from when Kirk disappeared. They gave me their report, as much of it as they could.
So I've had a week to decide what to do about this story, about a blog that was started because Kirk was missing. And I think that I want to keep on telling the story - his story, our story.
But it's important to say that Kirk was killed. On October 9th, 2003, Kirk was killed by Iraqi hostiles when a kidnap attempt went horribly wrong.
So the story has an end.
I had some decisions to make, some things to work out - some big, some less so. One of the smaller was this blog.
You see, I had a meeting with the CID (that's Criminal Investigation Division remember - don't hold me to the exact wording though) on Wednesday, August 9th. It was two years and ten months to the day from when Kirk disappeared. They gave me their report, as much of it as they could.
So I've had a week to decide what to do about this story, about a blog that was started because Kirk was missing. And I think that I want to keep on telling the story - his story, our story.
But it's important to say that Kirk was killed. On October 9th, 2003, Kirk was killed by Iraqi hostiles when a kidnap attempt went horribly wrong.
So the story has an end.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
I was asked recently if news like this, the two US soldiers kidnapped and killed, upsets me more than other people.
A. I can't answer that because I'm not other people.
B. It upsets me so badly I can hardly breath. But I should think most people feel that way.
A. I can't answer that because I'm not other people.
B. It upsets me so badly I can hardly breath. But I should think most people feel that way.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Children in Iraq - I
Before Kirk disappeared he wrote to a friend of ours in California. He talked about the children he saw - children in Iraq, children of war. The young men fighting now were children during the first gulf war and were raised in an uncertain era of terror and want. What legacy are todays children given? That friend quotes an email from Kirk, saying:
"In Bosnia and Kosovo I noticed...the eyes of the kids - knowing that they weren't likely to die anymore, but still so far from hope. Of course, kids are kids and can take a stick and a rock and make up grand adventures, but when war's ravages have subsided it often takes something to reawaken the spirit of belief, especially in young people. "
He was starting to talk to people he knew about setting up programs for the kids in Iraq and other areas ravaged by war and unrest. We talked a couple of times about the organizations that already existed, about the most important things to bring to these children, about the sort of resources that would be required. I still think that dream is important.
My family doesn't have the resources now to do anything really big, but we all agree that part of our healing process must include doing something if we possibly can, something for those kids.
The oldest child came up with the initial idea, inspired by the Berlin air-lift. The pilots would make bundles of candy and fit them with improvised parachutes made of handkerchiefs. The children of Berlin quickly learned to watch for the planes, and scrambled to catch the treats that sailed down. I met a woman who had been a child in Berlin at that time, and she said there was nothing more magical or memorable than those small packages. For the pilots too it was important - letting them bring a small happiness that had nothing to do with war or politics.
So our idea is to make little packages, small bags with candy (non-meltable) and little toys. We'd like to get them to the troops directly, so the soldiers on the ground can have something little to give to the kids they meet. We've designed the bags to be small enough to fit in a BDU pocket, and are trying to find toys that will be appropriate, inexpensive, and fun. (I'll post a picture later today... edit: I lied. I'll hopefully post a picture tomorrow)
We did run the idea past the oldest child's colonel, and I've been in contact with the Blue Star Mothers, but we are still trying to find a way to make the thing feasable. If anyone knows of someone serving in the gulf currently, I'd love to make contact and see if we can make this work.
"In Bosnia and Kosovo I noticed...the eyes of the kids - knowing that they weren't likely to die anymore, but still so far from hope. Of course, kids are kids and can take a stick and a rock and make up grand adventures, but when war's ravages have subsided it often takes something to reawaken the spirit of belief, especially in young people. "
He was starting to talk to people he knew about setting up programs for the kids in Iraq and other areas ravaged by war and unrest. We talked a couple of times about the organizations that already existed, about the most important things to bring to these children, about the sort of resources that would be required. I still think that dream is important.
My family doesn't have the resources now to do anything really big, but we all agree that part of our healing process must include doing something if we possibly can, something for those kids.
The oldest child came up with the initial idea, inspired by the Berlin air-lift. The pilots would make bundles of candy and fit them with improvised parachutes made of handkerchiefs. The children of Berlin quickly learned to watch for the planes, and scrambled to catch the treats that sailed down. I met a woman who had been a child in Berlin at that time, and she said there was nothing more magical or memorable than those small packages. For the pilots too it was important - letting them bring a small happiness that had nothing to do with war or politics.
So our idea is to make little packages, small bags with candy (non-meltable) and little toys. We'd like to get them to the troops directly, so the soldiers on the ground can have something little to give to the kids they meet. We've designed the bags to be small enough to fit in a BDU pocket, and are trying to find toys that will be appropriate, inexpensive, and fun. (I'll post a picture later today... edit: I lied. I'll hopefully post a picture tomorrow)
We did run the idea past the oldest child's colonel, and I've been in contact with the Blue Star Mothers, but we are still trying to find a way to make the thing feasable. If anyone knows of someone serving in the gulf currently, I'd love to make contact and see if we can make this work.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Getting to Iraq part three: 9/11
9/11. The third key really. I've tried to write this succinctly and clearly twice now, and as I was procrastinating by reading another page on the web I saw an ad for some site claiming that 9/11 was not terrorists with planes, but a staged event with explosives. I admit I didn't follow the link so I don't know whether our own government is supposedly involved or some other bizarre consipiracy. I have no interest in grassy-knoll-type theories.
The thing is that when 9/11 happened everyone around us reacted as normal, civilians would - shock, horror, fear... but Kirk, isolated from the intelligence and military community of people who knew what he knew, felt what he felt, was essentially alone. For a year he had spent his days imagining just this sort of scenario. He had come up with countless plans, evaluated targets, totalled up casualties and estimated political value. He had thought like a terrorist so he could stop them. Now he had to watch it made horribly real - the nightmare he had worked so hard to avoid.
Again, I think it's vital to point out the difference between guilt and responsibility. Kirk had tried to make the warning, he had worked endless hours to stop this very thing happening. He knew he had no guilt that he had been ignored. But he retained an enormous sense of responsibility - not only for what happened, but for dealing with the new world that 9/11 ushered in.
The company he worked for did try at first to get into the Homeland Security business. They put together a proposal and asked Kirk to take a look at it. He told me later that what wasn't laughable in their pitch was illegal. They weren't terribly pleased with his assessment, and hired an outside consultant. They didn't get the contract.
When Kirk left the military he told me he felt he nothing else to prove - he had done more than enough. In his career he had helped stop a coup, saved countless lives, briefed the White House... the list goes on. Leaving when he did wasn't easy, but he could say he had made a difference. But 9/11 changed all of that. There was a great deal more to be done, things that he was uniquely suited to do. He began looking for opportunities to become meaningfully involved.
The thing is that when 9/11 happened everyone around us reacted as normal, civilians would - shock, horror, fear... but Kirk, isolated from the intelligence and military community of people who knew what he knew, felt what he felt, was essentially alone. For a year he had spent his days imagining just this sort of scenario. He had come up with countless plans, evaluated targets, totalled up casualties and estimated political value. He had thought like a terrorist so he could stop them. Now he had to watch it made horribly real - the nightmare he had worked so hard to avoid.
Again, I think it's vital to point out the difference between guilt and responsibility. Kirk had tried to make the warning, he had worked endless hours to stop this very thing happening. He knew he had no guilt that he had been ignored. But he retained an enormous sense of responsibility - not only for what happened, but for dealing with the new world that 9/11 ushered in.
The company he worked for did try at first to get into the Homeland Security business. They put together a proposal and asked Kirk to take a look at it. He told me later that what wasn't laughable in their pitch was illegal. They weren't terribly pleased with his assessment, and hired an outside consultant. They didn't get the contract.
When Kirk left the military he told me he felt he nothing else to prove - he had done more than enough. In his career he had helped stop a coup, saved countless lives, briefed the White House... the list goes on. Leaving when he did wasn't easy, but he could say he had made a difference. But 9/11 changed all of that. There was a great deal more to be done, things that he was uniquely suited to do. He began looking for opportunities to become meaningfully involved.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Getting to Iraq part two: Counter Terrorism
When we left Alaska it was to head to a joint-service job in Virginia. Kirk was going to continue the innovative work he had done in information operations, and set up an info-ops joint forces unit with the Navy. When he showed up in November, 1999 he was told that the plan had changed and instead he would be in charge of Y2K. I think it was basically a job no one wanted and the Powers That Be figured the new guy (and the Air Force guy at that) would be the best person to tag.
Kirk had never done counter-terrorism; the learning curve was enormous. He began the work pattern that would hold for the next full year. He would often get to work by 5 am, sometimes earlier, and not get home until sometimes after 7 at night. If it wasn't too late he would sleep for an hour, then spend time with the family, getting to bed around 10. On Christmas day he watched the kids open their presents at around seven, then headed in to work, not getting home until well in the afternoon that day.
But it was New Years' day that really sticks in my mind. Of course we knew he couldn't spend it with us, and he couldn't talk about what he knew, or what had been going on. The kids and I turned on the Crocodile Hunter marathon and watched home alone; Kirk watched the news at work. I remember flipping to CNN every hour to watch the New Year roll around the world. There was a sort of sick apprehension each time, and a nervous relief as Asia, the Middle East, then Europe, safely celebrated the new Millenium. Kirk said the tension at the unit was unbelievable; they knew how much they had stopped - they were terrified they hadn't gotten everything.
After Y2K, Kirk became more and more consumed by the counter-terrorism world. He was read into higher and higher clearances, learned more and more about the largest threats to the US and her allies. Specifically he became deeply aware of Osama Bin Ladin and his organization.
Kirk was involved with designing readiness excercises - scenarios to be used by various units as they tested their skills. He proposed that a small boat filled with explosives be used as a weapon against a large warship - and was told it was an unrealistic idea. This was, of course, well prior to the USS Cole attack.
He also, along with his team, not only suggested that a commercial jet could be used as a terrorist weapon, but predicted the most likely targets that would be chosen. Again, he was ignored, and sometimes laughed at.
Perhaps if the frustration hadn't been so high Kirk might have stayed with the military. He loved the Air Force - the work, the people, the culture. But counter-terrorism is a consuming job. To do it well you have to think like a terrorist - something Kirk found, in his words, 'profoundly discouraging.' With the clearances he held, it seemed likely he would be doing counter-terrorism for the forseeable future. He made the difficult choice to leave the Air Force.
Ugh - terrible prose! It's not easy to write all this... maybe at some point I'll edit it into better shape.
Kirk had never done counter-terrorism; the learning curve was enormous. He began the work pattern that would hold for the next full year. He would often get to work by 5 am, sometimes earlier, and not get home until sometimes after 7 at night. If it wasn't too late he would sleep for an hour, then spend time with the family, getting to bed around 10. On Christmas day he watched the kids open their presents at around seven, then headed in to work, not getting home until well in the afternoon that day.
But it was New Years' day that really sticks in my mind. Of course we knew he couldn't spend it with us, and he couldn't talk about what he knew, or what had been going on. The kids and I turned on the Crocodile Hunter marathon and watched home alone; Kirk watched the news at work. I remember flipping to CNN every hour to watch the New Year roll around the world. There was a sort of sick apprehension each time, and a nervous relief as Asia, the Middle East, then Europe, safely celebrated the new Millenium. Kirk said the tension at the unit was unbelievable; they knew how much they had stopped - they were terrified they hadn't gotten everything.
After Y2K, Kirk became more and more consumed by the counter-terrorism world. He was read into higher and higher clearances, learned more and more about the largest threats to the US and her allies. Specifically he became deeply aware of Osama Bin Ladin and his organization.
Kirk was involved with designing readiness excercises - scenarios to be used by various units as they tested their skills. He proposed that a small boat filled with explosives be used as a weapon against a large warship - and was told it was an unrealistic idea. This was, of course, well prior to the USS Cole attack.
He also, along with his team, not only suggested that a commercial jet could be used as a terrorist weapon, but predicted the most likely targets that would be chosen. Again, he was ignored, and sometimes laughed at.
Perhaps if the frustration hadn't been so high Kirk might have stayed with the military. He loved the Air Force - the work, the people, the culture. But counter-terrorism is a consuming job. To do it well you have to think like a terrorist - something Kirk found, in his words, 'profoundly discouraging.' With the clearances he held, it seemed likely he would be doing counter-terrorism for the forseeable future. He made the difficult choice to leave the Air Force.
Ugh - terrible prose! It's not easy to write all this... maybe at some point I'll edit it into better shape.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Background - getting to Iraq part one
It's going to be impossible to maintain organization on this thing - bear with me as we move back and forth through time and subject.
So why go to Iraq at all? There was a lot behind the decision. Here's part of it.
In winter of 1998 Kirk was tagged for a 4 month deployment. At the time he was an Air Force intelligence officer stationed at Elmendorf AFB in Alaska. The military was well drawn down by this time, but overseas commitments had risen drastically and every military member knew that extended deployments were going to be a frequent part of life. Kirk was lucky, he was given a great assignment. He was sent to Vicenza, Italy to join a nato group watching the situation in the Balkans.
Of course the timing was lousy. His four months would mean he missed Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and three family birthdays, but on the other hand, he got four months in northern Italy. Naturally we were aware of tensions in the Balkans, but we didn't know the situation in Kosovo would erupt as it did while Kirk was there. He used to say that the war in Kosovo ruined his Italian vacation.
Kirk's unit was responsible (probably among other things - there was always much he couldn't tell me) for choosing strategic targets. They analysed the intelligence they got in, then figured out what was most vital to destroy. Part of that, of course, was looking over photographs and video after a mission was run to assess whether the target had really been knocked out.
In real terms what that meant was Kirk, and the people he worked with, chose daily where violence would visit. They always did their best to minimize collateral damage, but it was impossible to be sure. There were times when the timing of a mission had to be adjusted and so there was more traffic on a bridge than they hoped and people died. There was another time when because something wasn't successfully eliminated several dozen people were killed.
I think it's important to be clear that Kirk was an extremely intelligent and empathetic man. He did not take on a universal guilt that he did not deserve - he knew he had not made this war, and he was well aware of what needed to be done and why. But he did take on an enormous sense of responsibility. He made his choices based on what he honestly felt to be best, but was always aware of what those choices entailed.
There is so much to tell about Kosovo - even with the little that I know - and maybe eventually I'll write that as well, but the relevent point is that more and more after the war Kirk talked about wanting to be part of rebuilding since he had been part of destroying. When the job in Iraq came up, it seemed to be the opportunity he had wanted.
So why go to Iraq at all? There was a lot behind the decision. Here's part of it.
In winter of 1998 Kirk was tagged for a 4 month deployment. At the time he was an Air Force intelligence officer stationed at Elmendorf AFB in Alaska. The military was well drawn down by this time, but overseas commitments had risen drastically and every military member knew that extended deployments were going to be a frequent part of life. Kirk was lucky, he was given a great assignment. He was sent to Vicenza, Italy to join a nato group watching the situation in the Balkans.
Of course the timing was lousy. His four months would mean he missed Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and three family birthdays, but on the other hand, he got four months in northern Italy. Naturally we were aware of tensions in the Balkans, but we didn't know the situation in Kosovo would erupt as it did while Kirk was there. He used to say that the war in Kosovo ruined his Italian vacation.
Kirk's unit was responsible (probably among other things - there was always much he couldn't tell me) for choosing strategic targets. They analysed the intelligence they got in, then figured out what was most vital to destroy. Part of that, of course, was looking over photographs and video after a mission was run to assess whether the target had really been knocked out.
In real terms what that meant was Kirk, and the people he worked with, chose daily where violence would visit. They always did their best to minimize collateral damage, but it was impossible to be sure. There were times when the timing of a mission had to be adjusted and so there was more traffic on a bridge than they hoped and people died. There was another time when because something wasn't successfully eliminated several dozen people were killed.
I think it's important to be clear that Kirk was an extremely intelligent and empathetic man. He did not take on a universal guilt that he did not deserve - he knew he had not made this war, and he was well aware of what needed to be done and why. But he did take on an enormous sense of responsibility. He made his choices based on what he honestly felt to be best, but was always aware of what those choices entailed.
There is so much to tell about Kosovo - even with the little that I know - and maybe eventually I'll write that as well, but the relevent point is that more and more after the war Kirk talked about wanting to be part of rebuilding since he had been part of destroying. When the job in Iraq came up, it seemed to be the opportunity he had wanted.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
October 9 2003
Kirk disappeared from a road side between Baghdad and Kirkuk on the afternoon of October 9, 2003. His car had a flat tire, and he called the company office in Kirkuk for help. When the car was discovered, the doors were open, and he was nowhere to be found.
Still in the car were his computer, his satelite phone and a large amount of cash. There was no sign of struggle or violence.
I'd like to say those are the facts, but even here I'm not sure. I don't know how much money was there, whether Kirk was alone (as I've heard) or not, even who found the car.
After two and a half years of investigation, the CID hasn't been able to tell me much more than that. The problem, as one agent said to me, is the evidence. There simply isn't any; or none that they can discuss.
Because of course it's not quite as simple as just a missing man in Iraq (as though that were simple). But this is where we start, with an abandoned car on the side of the road in what is known as the Sunni triangle.
Still in the car were his computer, his satelite phone and a large amount of cash. There was no sign of struggle or violence.
I'd like to say those are the facts, but even here I'm not sure. I don't know how much money was there, whether Kirk was alone (as I've heard) or not, even who found the car.
After two and a half years of investigation, the CID hasn't been able to tell me much more than that. The problem, as one agent said to me, is the evidence. There simply isn't any; or none that they can discuss.
Because of course it's not quite as simple as just a missing man in Iraq (as though that were simple). But this is where we start, with an abandoned car on the side of the road in what is known as the Sunni triangle.
For Kirk
Two and a half years ago Kirk von Ackermann went missing in Iraq. He was the first American contractor to disappear. During that time we have waited and hoped while the investigation went on. Now we know it's time for us, his family, to do somethings ourselves.
So this is for Kirk. To our friends and family, it's a place to learn what we know, to see where we are now. For us it's somewhere to tell Kirk's story and ours and maybe find a place of resolution.
So this is for Kirk. To our friends and family, it's a place to learn what we know, to see where we are now. For us it's somewhere to tell Kirk's story and ours and maybe find a place of resolution.
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